


Fool Me Once

by tck489



Category: Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: Dark!Watson - Freeform, Hand Jobs, M/M, Prostitution, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 15:58:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1610957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tck489/pseuds/tck489
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watson has arranged a client for Holmes, only it's not the sort he would have expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fool Me Once

**Author's Note:**

> Written several years ago for the following prompt at shkinkmeme:
> 
> Dark!Watson has a habit of gambling away his rent money. In order to pay the rent, he starts to pimp out Asexual!Holmes.  
> I just have this idea of Watson calling for Holmes, "There's a client for you." and Holmes getting really excited and comes out of his room. Then his face falls when he realizes it's that kind of client, and not a new case.

The first time it happened Holmes had been caught perfectly unaware.  
  
He'd been without a challenging case for weeks and hadn't seen the doctor in some days. Happy to be left to wallow in his own misery, he didn't have much concern for what the man might have gotten up to.  
  
He was surprised, though, when Mrs. Hudson rapped cautiously at his door to announce a visitor. A fellow who'd come to see him on the advice of Watson.  
  
Just what had Watson been up to? Working cases without him? How odd...  
  
Well, Holmes thought, if Watson thought this man's problem warranted his attention he'd see to the visitor.  
  
"Show him up, please Mrs. Hudson," he said and quickly brushed some papers onto the floor. Couldn't the man have just sent a telegram? Really, Watson knew what the state of the flat would surely be... the first prospect for a case in weeks and he wasn't fit to take a guest.  
  
Holmes was picking something up from the floor as the client arrived at the door. Folded over at the waist, Holmes turned his head to speak to the man. "Do come in," Holmes said, "take a seat and I shall be right with you"  
  
"Oh I quite like the view from here," spoke the man, taking a few steps into the room.  
  
Holmes righted himself and raised an eyebrow quizzically at the remark. But weirder things had occurred in this room after all so he gave it no further thought.  
  
"So tell me, what is it that brings you here? Why is it you require my assistance?"  
  
"Well you see," the man spoke with a frightening grin, "the problem is my pants are feeling a bit too tight."  
  
"You say John Watson sent you? There is some sort of a mix up, I am not a tailor..."  
  
What a peculiar joke to play, thought Holmes. Of course, Watson had resorted to strange tactics in the past to dig him out of his moods, but he had heard nothing from the man for some time...  
  
"Nah, it ain't my pants that're the problem, it's what's in it."  
  
"Oh the problem is _in_ your pants? A case of adultery is it? You've been misinformed, I've no interest in such a case. Please, show yourself out."  
  
But the man did not budge. Instead he spoke, "You're exactly how he described. Prettier even."  
  
Holmes blushed, "I beg your pardon?"  
  
"I was told about your charming personality, but he left out how splendid your rump is... pity I had only enough for a tug." The man grabbed Holmes's arse. "Perhaps next time," he breathed into Holmes's ear.  
  
The man fell back into a chair taking Holmes's hand with him. He unbuttoned his fly, placing Holmes's hand on his member. Speaking gruffly, "Now get on with it."  
  
Watson had sent this man here? Good heavens this was a terrible mix up. Holmes closed his eyes and awkwardly moved his hand along the man's length.  
  
"Grip it tightly you git!" The man shouted.  
  
Holmes's eyes closed tighter along with his hand, apparently his actions were pleasing to the man as he began to groan softly.  
  
 _Think of tea pots, think of Gladstone, think of waistcoats, think of walnuts, think of anything but this cruel joke._  
  
Shortly thereafter, but not soon enough, the man had spent his seed along Holmes's shirt front. Holmes still refused to open his eyes.  
  
"Look at ya," the man slurred drunk from pleasure, "real dirty, it looks good on ya... I'll definitely call on ya again." Heavy boots took steps out the door and disappeared down the stairs.  
  
What on Earth had just transpired?  
  
Holmes collapsed in on himself and whimpered a soft question to the empty room, "Watson?"


End file.
